Fire in the Wind
by FlamingChip
Summary: The dragons are not gone but live in exile on Dragonstone until the fateful storm that would birth a new life. The wolf bares his teeth at a former friend, remember the injustice the stag has brought upon the kingdom. Taking a chance on what could only be considered madness, the dragons fly north to seek asylum and fight to place their rightful king on the throne.
1. Chapter 1

_**A little plot bunny I have had running around my head for ages now. This story will be slightly AU with major characters meeting and changing the course of history. I hope you'll all stick around to see what this could become! Reviews are much appreciated and any inconsistencies with canon are my fault entirely.**_

* * *

He sat outside the chambers with the heir to the throne next to him. Ser Willem Darry, the last loyal member of the Kingsguard, listened as the queen's screams rattled through the halls. The storm outside was ferocious and the knight could barely fathom the idea that the thunder that roared was softer than the cries of Her Grace. The boy next to him fidgeted with his fingers, turning over and over one of his father's rings. The news from King's Landing had come swiftly on the words of the Spider: the Usurper was planning a siege on Dragonstone. If the old knight hadn't known any better, he would have thought that this news was what sent Rhaella Targaryen into labor. But now, he sits with Viserys, for the birthing chamber was not for a man.

"I hope it's a girl," The knight heard Viserys whisper to himself, "Mother always wanted a girl."

Darry smiled softly, perhaps the boy could be saved from his family's madness. He remembered the old saying of how with every Targaryen a coin is flipped. It was obvious that Aerys' coin had landed on the wrong side while Rhaella's on the right. Rhaegar however? It was said to be poor to speak ill of the dead, but the knight couldn't help but truly believe that Rhaegar's coin had still been spinning when he had reached manhood, a coin refusing to land. He would have been a great king, but for what he did with the Stark girl? Nay, that was the very madness that would have lead the kingdom to ruin. Viserys, the young boy that he was, was prone to fits of rage especially after Aerys had attempted to take him under his wing. With a strong hand and a king heart, the boy could be trained to be something great. Perhaps even a better king than Rhaegar would ever have been.

"Would you not wish a brother, your grace?" the knight questioned, fearing the answer he might receive. But Viserys shook his head, "No, mother deserves to be happy." Darry would have let the matter lie except for the next thing that came out of the young boy's mouth, said in nothing but a whisper. "I heard the servants talking, about how father used to treat mother. H-How could someone be so cruel? They couldn't have been telling the truth, could they Ser Willem?" The old knight narrowed his eyes at the ground, his hands folding into one another as he tried to formulate a valid response.

"You being quiet tells me all I need to know then."

"Perhaps it would be a conversation for you and your mother, your grace. It is not of the Kingsguard to speak ill of the king."

"But I am your king now, aren't I?" the boy questioned, "Mother crowned me herself, you were there! I am the king, not that man that killed Rhaegar."

The boy was smart, he'd give him that. "My apologies, your grace, for it-"

Cries of a babe filled the corridor before Willem Darry finished his sentence. He shot up, his hand instinctively grasping his hilt. A new Targaryen had been born to the world.

* * *

"Your grace, please!" The maester cried, "It is not safe for you to hold the child."

"That is _my_ child, maester, and you will let me hold her."

Rhaella could feel herself getting weaker and weaker by each passing breath. No, she couldn't die, she couldn't leave her children in the world. A Targaryen alone in the world was a terrible thing. Oh Viserys, he was still so young, so malleable. If placed in the wrong hands, she could see the boy turning out to be just like his father. Aerys, she had tried to love him once, back when he had great ideas that never came to fruition. But like those very ideas she couldn't bear to look at him any longer than she had to. Their children, born of rape, she despised the man and would until her very last day. Her brother, her husband, her king. Could the same be said of Viserys and this newborn girl? The maester finally gave into Rhaella's demands and placed the babe in her arms. The queen choked back a sob as she was reminded of Shaena, their first daughter whom had been born stillborn. She would have been Rhaegar's bride no doubt, even with the age difference. Eight years, the same as between Viserys and her new child.

Pain ripped through the queen and she let out another scream, the child in her arms crying as well. The maester took the child and yelled orders at his assistants, the room was turning dark.

 _No, you cannot die._

Many women died in childbirth, her own dear friend Joanna Lannister had died in childbirth, but she was determined not to be one of them. Rhaella felt the Stranger's cold hands grasp around her neck, pulling her down; but Rhaella was a dragon, and she would defeat a god if she must. The Targaryens were worshiped as gods once, if she remembered the stories correctly, and if they were worshiped as the Seven were then she could defeat him. With all her strength, Rhaella kept her eyes open and focused on the new babe. She willed herself to live, and after what seemed hours to fighting and stress the maester sighed in relief.

"Your grace," he mustered through his own sweat and short breath, "it's a miracle, the bleeding has subsided, you should live."

The queen laughed, she could kiss the maester if she truly wanted to. Her eyes slowly shut in relief, ready to sleep. But she knew that this exile would be short lived, they had to act. But for now, sleep would be the first thing on her agenda.

* * *

Viserys was growing ever impatient as his mother refused to let him in. The maester had brought Ser Willem aside and explained everything in gruesome detail. It was one of the many times in his life that the Kingsguard was thankful he was not a maester.

"What if it's a boy? What if she wants him to be king instead of me!?"

 _Paranoia, no, it must not happen._

"Your grace, your mother is very weak right now. She almost didn't survive the birth. I am sure her grace does not wish for you to see what a mess it is in there. _Surely, I don't._ This seemed to satisfy the prince for a few moments until he saw yet another servant walk into the room and bar the door behind them. The knight rolled his eyes at the boy who started to fume once more, and instead of scolding him like a father would he pressed his hand on his shoulder.

"You're worried for your mother, that is an admirable trait, your grace. Always keep that in mind, especially when you take the throne."

The young prince smiled up at the knight, "Thank you Ser Willem, I'll remember your words often."

Gah, it hurt the man's heart hearing the boy try to sound wiser than his years. Perhaps the death of his father would be a good thing for the lad. It was good for the kingdom; however, the succession was not what it needed to be. Robert Baratheon, bah, the usurper would one day find himself trapped with the traitorous Lannisters with nothing but a cry for help. He would gladly become a kingslayer just to put Viserys back on the throne.

Finally, after what seemed like ages the door creaked open and the maester bowed his head.

"Your grace, Ser Willem, the queen would like to see you both."

Viserys all but bounded into the room to see his mother, Ser Willem however followed at a more respectful pace and distance. A smile was brought to his face when the queen hugged her now eldest child and wiped away his tears. Should he be intruding on this moment? Nay, she had requested him here as well.

"I thought I was going to lose you." Viserys whispered to his mother through the tears, but Rhaella ran her fingers through his long silver-blonde locks and hummed softly. A wetnurse carried the new child and handed it to Rhaella.

"Viserys my sweet, I wish for you to meet your sister."

A smile broke out on Viserys' face, a girl! While it was now only Viserys who would be able to further the Targaryen name, at least there was another heir to the throne should something happen to him. "What is her name?" the knight asked, knowing he was intruding on a tender moment.

"Daenerys, her name is Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen."

* * *

Ser Willem stood guard outside the chambers holding the Targaryen family just as he did every night, but this night was different. He could hear the terrifying storm outside, he could see the damage done. The fleet was destroyed save for two ships, and in his mind the knight knew that this would be the perfect opportunity for the usurper to strike. But after Rhaella's rocky childbirth could she be moved? Robert Baratheon would no doubt kill her and the children, but moving her too soon might also be the end of the queen.

As his thoughts lingered on the queen it was to his surprise that the woman opened the door and was standing next to him; clearly disobeying the maester's orders to stay in bed and immobile.

"Your grace, surely the maester-"

"The maester can scold me like a child on the morrow, we must discuss our plan here Ser Willem."

The knight kneeled before her, "I am yours to command."

"Enough of that, Ser, I have the utmost trust in you." The queen motioned for him to stand and the knight did so. "I see the damage to the fleet, we have barely any ships, and Baratheon will no doubt be on our doorstep within a moon's turn. I ask for your council, what should we do?"

Darry thought for a moment and looked to the seas, as rough as they were they could risk a voyage.

"I say we flee, Pentos would treat you and the children fine. The Spider has connections there, he would make sure you were safe."

"I do not wish to be safe, Ser Willem," the queen replied, "I wish to grant my son his throne back."

The knight's eyes narrowed, "You already have a plan then, your grace?"

Rhaella nodded, "It is a fool's notion, and I could be placing the lives of my children in more risk than they are in if we stay here. I will not flee to Pentos like a coward, but I will stay in Westeros and fight for what is ours, for what is Viserys'."

"Stay in Westeros?!" The knight gapped at the suggestion, "Your grace will all due respect that is _madness_!"

The Targaryen queen chuckled softly as the flash of lightning crossed her face, "I am a Targaryen, Ser Willem, shouldn't I be mad in a time like this?"

"Where will you go? The Tyrells will not harbor you and neither will the Velaryons. They all swore their oaths to the Usurper, the Targaryens are not welcome in their own country."

Rhaella sighed and leaned against the wall, feeling sleep cross across her eyes. She knew that this was risky, hell it was almost suicide, but she had to try. If there was a small chance that she could reclaim their throne for her son it would have to be this. She would be throwing her children to the mercy of a wolf.

"If my sources are correct, Robert Baratheon has alienated himself from and has lost his most trusted ally. We'll need someone just and honorable to win our cause. When the maester gives the okay, Ser Willem, we sail North."

 _This had to work, for the sake of the children, for the sake of Westeros._


	2. Chapter 2

This took... months to write. My sincerest apologies for all of you who were anxiously awaiting chapter two of this story. I had a bunch of computer problems that plagued me as well as real life issues but I should be back hopefully. Thank you for all the favorites, follows, and reviews; it means a lot to me! I promise the next chapter won't take months this time!

* * *

Court was full of whispers as Stannis Baratheon walked through the throne room with his loyal Baratheon men surrounding him. His stoic face never changed as he walked towards his brother, his king. Robert had given him one task and Stannis was outsmarted by that damn traitor. He swore that one day he would bring Willem Darry back to his knees in front of Robert and make sure he paid for his crimes. Surely with no Targaryen children chained behind him, it was obvious that he had failed his mission, and Robert took notice of this. His jovial look that he had as he granted a knighthood to a loyal servant to the crown quickly turned to something… darker.

"You have some nerve showing up here, Stannis. I see no dragonspawn with you."

Stannis knelt at the base of the Iron Throne, keeping his head bowed, his men following his actions.

"Your grace."

" _Your grace!_ " Robert mocked, "Is that all you have to say for yourself? I gave you a task so simple a cripple could have done it. Bring me the dragonspawn! Yet I see no dragonspawn, only a failure."

Stannis ground his teeth and tried to stand, but Robert barked, "I did not order you to stand."

Instead, Stannis remained on the ground, ignoring the looks his men were giving one another. "My mission was met with difficulty that resulted in me failing. However, I have come to pledge the loyalty of Storm's End and the Stormlands to you, your grace."

"And what makes you think that is your loyalty to pledge?"

 _What?!_

Stannis' eyes broke open but he would not look upon his brother.

"You are the king now, Robert. Storm's End passes to the next in line which would be me."

The king's eyes narrowed and his growl of anger could be heard by Stannis and his men.

"Storm's End will _never_ be yours!"

Those were the words that King Robert Baratheon had shouted throughout the throne room, much to the shock of Jon Arryn standing next to him. Stannis Baratheon remained in a kneeling position with his head bowed. Bah, an utter fool Robert was! How could he deny his younger brother his ancestral right? The aging man stared at his foster son, pleading with his eyes to make the right decision, but the Baratheon fury was fueling a young Robert into doing things that Jon Arryn knew should not be done. But he was a servant of the new king, the king's word was law, and he couldn't help but feel pity for the younger man in front of him.

"Storm's End will pass to my youngest brother, Renly Baratheon. He will be trained with a castellan of my choosing. Since my dear brother failed to capture the dragon spawn, he can go live there for all I care." The Stag King was silent for a moment before he ground his teeth in anger, "Besides; that's where the _heir_ lives isn't it?"

Malice filled the king's voice as he left the throne room, declaring court to be over with. Jon Arryn quickly had the remaining kingsguard usher out the lords and ladies of court and approached Stannis Baratheon.

"This is a slight upon my house, upon my honor!"

Almost the exact opposite of his brother, Jon Arryn was proud that the Baratheon brothers did not escalate the situation to a shouting match. Instead Stannis stood and held back his anger, although his words said otherwise.

"I will discuss with his grace the possibility of giving you back Storm's End, it is yours by right. Not Renly's."

Stannis scoffed, "You know well, Lord Arryn, that my brother will never change his mind about anything. Tis what started this war to begin with."

Jon Arryn sighed and placed his hand upon Stannis' shoulder, "What news of the Targaryens?"

Almost as if he had been ready to give his battle report to his commanding officer, Stannis turned at full attention and repeated the words to Jon Arryn that he had been practicing all morning.

"The servants we captured claimed that Rhaella Targaryen died in the birthing bed, a girl was born, but I did not see a body. They say that Ser Willem Darry burned her body as is customary for the Targaryens so Robert couldn't get a hold of it himself. The children and Darry are on a ship bound for Essos, their belongings were mostly taken by the servants."

This was… troubling news. Jon had hoped Rhaella Targaryen would have survived childbirth and had been brought back to swear fealty to Robert. Perhaps he would have persuaded the new king to give them Dragonstone, to live there until their dying days. He could have married the girl off to a lord's son and sent Viserys off to the wall to extinguish the family name. Curious, as to how Robert fails to recognize that he too was descended from the Targaryens… Jon was pulled back from his thoughts when he and Stannis both saw _her_ with an exquisite crimson gown littered with golden jewels. She and her father, the "great" Tywin Lannister, walked around the throne room, not doubt whispering about adding more Lannister influence to these great halls.

"Too quickly does he forget Lyanna Stark, the whole reason for this rebellion."

Stannis' words were whispered, too many ears in this city even though most were for the king himself. But how would the king feel about his younger brother mocking the new queen to be and lamenting about Eddard's sister?

"Aerys was mad, that is the fact, Lord Stannis. Lyanna Stark was only one of the reasons for this rebellion."

Still, the murder of the Targaryen babes, the pardoning of Jaime Lannister, these were things that Jon Arryn was not amused by. Jon Arryn wondered for just a moment what it would have been like if Eddard had taken the seat on the Iron Throne instead of Robert. Perhaps the realm would have accepted a follower of the Old Gods on the throne, perhaps a bit of Northern influence would be good. Damn Rickard and his Southern Ambitions, could he had been right all along?

"Cersei Lannister gives me a horrid feeling, Lord Arryn. If anything, do keep an eye on my brother. No matter what slights he gives me in front of the whole court."

The Valeman nodded, "Of course, Lord Stannis." He sighed for a moment before turning back to the new ruler of Dragonstone. "I will speak with his grace to give you a position on the small council. Perhaps then you wouldn't have to live in such a… dreary place."

While the thoughts of Jon ran back to Robert he could not help but think of his new wife. A child in his eyes, he had promised to care for her just like he said in his vows, but Lysa was not as keen to the marriage as he had hoped. They barely came to bed together, and even when they did it was almost like Jon lay with a dead fish. No matter what he tried to do to comfort her, she remained distant. Perhaps a child would be good for her. He would have to send Hoster a raven telling him to urge his daughter. For if he couldn't give her happiness, perhaps a child would.

* * *

"Land!"

Ser Willem Darry stood on the edge of the ship looking out towards White Harbor. His white cloak had been traded for one of black and purple, for black and red would have been too obvious. His sword hung ever so loyally at his side, ready to fight for his royal family as he always had. Rhaella Targaryen had been confined to her chambers on the ship under the maester's orders and thus she and the babe had been able to heal and grow stronger. Viserys too had seemed to change lately, trying to act more mature in the face of his father's death. He tried to act like a king, but Darry knew that he was trying to act like his father; a bad path. He prayed every night to the Seven that the queen's plan would work, for if not it would be the true end of the Targaryen line. Darry had once prayed that he wouldn't know what winter felt like in the North, but now it seems that the Gods mocked his childish wish. Summer was upon them and yet- It was still so cold. He looked in the distance, and on the horizon, he swore he saw a glimpse of the famous Wall.

He shuddered, it would be a cruel punishment to be sent there. He would rather die.

"Ser Willem!" the knight heard from behind him, the dragon boy walking slowly up and peering over the edge, "Is it true? We've made land?"

"Shortly, your grace." The knight had replied, "But you still have many enemies here. It would be wise to keep your hood on and your mother close."

The boy scrunched his nose, "But why would you take us here? If we have so many enemies?"

Darry sighed, "It was your mother's idea, not mine. She knows what's best for you, and I'm sure her plan will succeed."

This seemed to satisfy the boy until yet more curious questions arose.

"Will we be living here?"

"I'm not sure, your grace."

"What about the usurper? Will he find us here?"

"If you keep your mouth shut, he will not."

"Will you be-"

"Viserys!"

The kingsguard knight was relieved to hear Rhaella Targaryen call to her son, and the boy ran close to his mother and hugged her. The queen pressed a kiss atop her son's head and strode next to the knight with her child at her side.

"Aerys once promised to take me North," she said quietly almost in a whisper, "he had such plans. He wanted to make Dorne bloom, and he wished to build another Wall. But, almost seemed bored with his ideas as quickly as he made him up." Viserys looked up to his mother and let out a toothy smile.

"Well, what if I did what father couldn't?"

Rhaella smiled and gave her son a squeeze on the shoulder. "Then you will be a better king than any that came before you."

The ship came to the dock and instantly Darry noticed that the queen tensed up. Now came the most difficult part of their journey, smuggling exiled Targaryens to their final destination. The captain of the ship brought Rhaella her daughter wrapped in a fur blanket as well as a large sack of provisions.

"Well, 'ere we are. I hope that dis bag 'ere is more than enough to see ya through yer journey." Darry took the sack and slung it over his back while the queen took Daenerys and kept her close. The captain bowed and looked into Rhaella's violet eyes.

"I be sailing to Essos now, yer grace, to build my reputation there an' hopefully gain myself a fleet. When ye' needs me, send a raven an' I shall return with loyal men to sail ya wherever ya are."

"Your words are kind, Walys, may the Seven watch over you and grant you safe passage."

Viserys shifted uncomfortably trying to think of the right words to say. What would his father do in this situation? Had he asked Ser Willem, the kingsguard would have refrained from telling the boy his father would have had the captain executed, or at the least his tongue ripped out so he could not spread word of their location. Viserys stepped away from his mother's side and shakingly took one of his three gold dragons he managed to smuggle from Dragonstone out of his pocket and gave it to the captain.

"F-For your troubles. Thank you for your loyalty, sir."

The captain smiled and bowed again, "Pleasure was mine, yer grace." He turned to the remaining Kingsguard and nodded. "Ya should probably find a horse er two in town and get the hell to where yer goin'. I wish you all luck."

The Targaryens threw their hoods up to hide their Valyrian features and Ser Willem Darry kept his hand on his sword's pommel as their made their way from the docks to the market. Darry couldn't help but notice the quaintness of the North and how the people were focused on helping one another. Perhaps the North would be good for Viserys, to make sure he didn't turn out like his father. He bought two horses for a price he deemed way too low as well as some furs for the ride north. Darry knew where they were going, even though his heart screamed otherwise for them to turn around.

It had been years since the queen had ridden a horse for Aerys kept her locked away in the Red Keep. Rhaella had a smile on her face as she mounted the animal and strapped Daenerys on her front. Viserys would ride with Ser Willem and they would travel as quick as they could. Rhaella turned to her son once they were out of town and gave him a serious look.

"We cannot use our true names until we are ensured safety, you understand that my son?"

Viserys nodded, "Yes mother."

Rhaella nodded. "We will use somewhat northern names to fit in. You will call yourself Vayon, your sister Danny like Danny Flint, and Ser Willem will be Walys like the captain."

Viserys nodded, Vayon, it was sort of like his name. And he had already started to call Daenerys by a shorter name of Dany so that was easy. Ser Willem was probably going to be the hardest, but he knew he had to adjust and fast. But then a thought struck him. "But mother, what about you? What is your name?"

Rhaella smiled and thought for a moment. She had once promised her mother should would be a good queen. A good queen just like…

"Alysanne."


	3. Chapter 3

And here we are, Chapter 3! Thank you for all the reviews, favorites, and the likes on the last chapter, it really made me ready to type this up again. A little longer of a chapter here, I'm hoping that once this story starts going I'll hit about 5-6k words per, but for now it's little bits here and there. Hope you all had a wonderful holiday weekend.

* * *

"My apologies, Roose, I never congratulated you on the birth of you son."

If there was one thing Roose Bolton never was it was unnerved, he was always calm, cool, and collected; always plotting. And yet here he sat on the edge of his seat fidgeting with his hands as Lord Eddard Stark stared him down. The Quiet Wolf was more than angry about something, his fury that was seemingly directed on a letter half crumpled on the desk before him was what was unnerving the Leech Lord. _A quiet man is a threat, but a quiet man who angers is the biggest threat of all._ The words of his father echoed in his head and Roose couldn't help but agree more. The last time Eddard Stark was angered the realm lept to rebellion, albeit that wasn't the only reason.

"I must apologize as well, my lord, I did not send my good wishes to you on the birth of your own son. Robb, is it not?"

A small smile emerged from the Lord of Winterfell as he thought about his son, it was obvious that the wolf was proud of his pup. "Aye, Robb, he takes much after his mother's coloring, but I can see my father in him."

"And the other?" Roose said, testing the waters. It was no secret that the honorable Stark fathered a bastard, and perhaps this wasn't the button to push because Ned's eyes narrowed and stared into his own pale ones.

"Jon, my blood through and through. But it seems that the _snow_ is heavy here in the north."

Roose knew that Stark was referring to his own bastard. The Leech Lord almost choked on air, how did he know!? Did Stark also know _how_ this bastard came to be? Was he about to be arrested? No, there was no proof, even if he had found the bastard's mother and gotten the story out of her. It was a commoner's words against a lord's…

"Tell me about Domeric."

Bolton gave a small sigh of relief, knowing quickly to change the subject was the smartest idea. "Five name days old, he is. Domeric is showing interest in horses, he keeps saying he wishes to be a knight, but that is a Southron's folly."

Ned Stark placed his chin on his folded hands almost deep in thought. "Perhaps he could foster in the Vale after you have no doubt fostered him in the North. The Vale has no small supply of knights and good lords that could show him what it means to be a knight. There is no shame in being a knight, there are many northern knights."

Roose wanted to roll his eyes, a knight of the Dreadfort? Nay, it would not happen, he would ensure that his son would no longer wish to be a knight. However, the thought of fostering in the Vale intrigued him. His son would be far away while he possibly dealt with his bastard. By then the child would be almost a man and surely it would be time to make sure he would not harm House Bolton in any way. He would make sure his bastard was kept in the shadows, unlike Stark who was keeping his for the world to see.

"Perhaps when he is older we can discuss fostering in the Vale, but not yet. No doubt my goodsister will want to foster her nephew, she has become quite fond of him."

 _Ah-ha! There is was!_ It was almost fun to watch the wolf squirm thinking about the Dustins, how angry Barbrey Dustin was when Stark brought her not her husband's bones but his steed. Eddard Stark ignored the comment slightly and returned to his papers. Roose stared at the Quiet Wolf and then around the room, remembering how it looked when Rickard Stark was lord of this castle. It hadn't changed much, but it was obvious that Ned Stark had tried to make it his own, paintings of wolves and the Kings of Winter that were once hung in the castle's library were moved here. It seemed like forever before Eddard made a sound, another angry growl.

"My lord?"

Eddard Stark almost threw the parchment that was the subject of his anger to Roose. "What do you make of that, Roose?"

The Leech Lord uncrumpled the paper as best he could and saw the handwriting of Jon Arryn, the king's hand. His eyes were glued to the passages and he mouth went dry. Surely he couldn't mean… No, this was… _WHAT?_

It seemed that Ned read his reaction that plastered over his normally reactionless face, "I see you that see what I do."

"My lord, surely Lord Arryn jests!"

"Jon Arryn does not jest." The wolf said darkly.

"The king wants to tax the North for a… a tourney for a child not even conceived! To supply lumber for a tourney that no Northerner will take part in. This is-"

"Madness?"

"Eddard this is outraging. These taxes will hurt the North more, why does he not ask Tywin Lannister for the gold? Why does he not use his own coffers?"

Ned Stark leaned back in his seat, "Robert thinks that Northern support in something a Northerner would never take part in is to fund it. If I decline, that makes me a traitor to the realm, but if I accept…"

"It makes you a tyrant in the eyes of the smallfolk, taking more money from them." Roose said, piecing everything together. He personally couldn't care less about the smallfolk of the Dreadfort, but that was not Eddard Stark. "That is why you wanted me, is it not?"

"Correct," Ned nodded, "I need to find a solution to this problem. Without taxing my own people."

Roose thought for a moment, "Ravens get lost in the wind all of the time, Lord Stark…"

It was a shady plan, one that honorable Ned Stark probably wouldn't agree with, but to his surprise Ned threw the parchment detailing a grand tournament for Robert's firstborn child into the fire behind them.

"I gave your name for Master of Whispers, did you know that?"

Now _this_ shocked the Leech Lord, "A-An honor, my lord."

"And do you notice how many Northerners were given honors after the war?"

None. The word shouted in his head as realization hit him. Ned Stark stood, slammed his fist onto his desk, and continued to speak.

"Nothing. There were no Northerners given positions on the small council. No castles or invitations to court. Even a place in the Kingsguard was laughed at. The Reach, the damn Reach loyalists got more honors than the North. Does he forget whose armies fought and died for him? Does he forget who he named brother? Does he forget whose sister we went to war for!?"

 _Lyanna_. Roose knew that was a tender spot for everyone, especially Ned Stark. Bolton himself had seen the girl's beauty and would have made an offer to Rickard Stark for Lyanna's hand had Bethany Dustin not been offered to him.

"The king needs to know what it means to cross the North, Eddard."

"And what would you have me do Roose? Declare war?" Ned slumped back into his chair, "Our armies are depleted and the North needs to heal. We cannot survive as an independent country in this moment, nor do I wish to be declared a king. Usurp the throne, for whom? The Targaryen babes are gone, Stannis has earned the ire of court from what I've heard, and Renly is too young. We have to live with Robert for now."

"Then decrease supply crates going to the capitol." Bolton suggested, "Perhaps bring in trade from elsewhere."

"Where do you suggest?" Eddard pried, "Essos?"

Roose thought for a moment, "Perhaps. The North is known for its lumber and furs, and the nobles across the narrow sea wear their furs as a fashion statement instead of for warmth. Pentos and Braavos, it could work."

The Quiet Wolf pulled out a book of records from his desk, no doubt a partial record of the trades done by Winterfell.

"I will have to consult the maester on the numbers, he knows better than I. We will have to construct a fleet if we wish to trade heavily with Essos. Perhaps the Manderlys will oblige."

Eddard Stark sighed and poured a glass of ale, doing the same for Roose Bolton.

"Thank you, Roose." He said handing the glass to his vassal, "I appreciate having someone with a more clever mind than my own to get counsel from. I have a room set aside for you and lodging for your men for the night."

The Leech Lord nodded and drank from his cup. He thought about the strife between their two houses, the Kings of Winter and the Red Kings of the Dreadfort. Stark and Bolton. Twice had the Boltons rebelled, he would make sure that Ned Stark would not cause him to rebell a third.

* * *

They rode hard in the night, Viserys' sole duty was to hold the torch that lit their path. Not a word was said even as they broke their riding earlier to sup. Viserys knew what would happen if they were caught, he knew what the usurper would do to him and to his new little sister. As Ser Willem held onto him and the reigns, Viserys kept twisting his father's ring on his non-torch-holding-hand. His father's ring was made of silver and bore the sigil of House Targaryen carved into a deep blood red ruby. It was one of the few things he was able to take from Dragonstone. His mother had her crown and a few family jewels packed away in a little rucksack while Viserys took three gold dragons, the ring which he wore upon his finger, his father's ring which adorned the opposite hand, and a dagger that Rhaegar secretly gave him on his sixth name day which Ser Willem held for him.

The moon was at its zenith in the sky and the boy-king wondered how much longer it would take them to get to where they were going. He knew they were still in Westeros, but they kept heading north. Were they going to the Wall, where the usurper couldn't reach them? Was he to become a man of the Night's Watch? No, his mother wouldn't have crowned him king if he was… right? All questions he could ask but not at the moment. They had to stay silent, they couldn't be found. And it was when the horse that he and Ser Darry were on crested the hill that he saw the magnificent castle that took his breath away. But his heart sank when he saw the banner that was illuminated by the torch below it and Viserys whispered in awe and disappointment.

"Winterfell…"

Ser Willem Darry looked to Rhaella who was clutching Daenerys tightly. "Are you absolutely sure about this?"

The queen nodded, "I have to be, there is no other way."

* * *

"And where do you think you're going?"

His hand remained pressed on the door but did not budge an inch. He knew what it would be to defy an order, but the man remained silent. He let out a small sigh that was hopefully inaudible to the man behind him.

"Nowhere I suppose."

The older knight sighed as well and pulled the younger into a fatherly embrace.

"I assume you heard."

The younger knight nodded and clutched his elder's cloak as he silently sobbed. _A lion never shows his weakness._ But in this moment it was all he could do. The older knight held him, trying to contain his own tears. Here in the White Sword Tower they could share their feelings, where there were no little birds or spiders creeping up the walls. Ser Barristan Selmy had been named Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, but at this moment he felt traitorous.

"Jaime." He cooed. He had to remember, this man was still a boy at heart, barely a man grown. The golden-haired knight shuddered and tried to contain himself, but he could not.

"She didn't deserve to die. After all he put her through, she deserved to have a happy life with a daughter. Even in exile..."

Selmy nodded and pulled away from Jaime Lannister, "Rhaella's death is a tragedy, but one we must not dwell on. We have a new king to serve, new loyalties to prove."  
 _  
_" _I proved my loyalty when I saved this city…"  
_  
"Who is with his grace?" Jaime asked, attempting to get his mind off the subject.

"Ser Mandon Moore." Selmy replied with a scowl on his face. Jaime rolled his eyes as well, " _Ser Fish_ you mean."

"Now now," Ser Barristan scolded, "he is your sworn brother now. You must treat him like you would me or any of the Kingsguard." Although Ser Barristan did not agree with the appointment of Mandon Moore, he couldn't deny that the man was the right fit for the job. He would do his duty as he was told and wouldn't stray from it no matter what. _That_ was what the Kingsguard needed. Hopefully Robert Baratheon would follow suit and appoint more loyal members. Selmy surely had his own recommendations.

"My apologies, Ser, I spoke out of line."

Selmy patted Jaime on the shoulder, "It is alright, Ser Jaime." and after a moment, the older knight chuckled, "He does have the eyes of a fish, doesn't he?"

After another embrace the two took a seat at the round table in silence as they processed their thoughts. Jaime was the first to speak.

"All Rhaegar wanted was to be king, to end his father's rule. To make sure Viserys wasn't tainted by madness. But even then, it might have been too late."

Barristan nodded, "Viserys was prone to fits of anger from what I've heard, perhaps he was born with madness after all."

 _No._ Jaime thought to himself. _Viserys was just a child, all children have fits of anger, he was not mad; not yet anyways._ _And now he is running scared, without a mother..._ "Rhaella was like a mother to me, Ser Barristan, so forgive me if my emotions regarding her remain… strong."

The older knight nodded, "I know, I remember. Ser Arthur Dayne told me of how she wept when your mother had died, of how Aerys wept as well. Perhaps your mother was the last thing holding Aerys' sanity to his body."

"Come now," Selmy commanded as he stood, "let us go relieve Ser Mandon from his duty."

Jaime nodded and noticed the direction of of the White Sword Tower they were headed. "He's at a brothel?" He growled, "He is marrying my sister in less than a month and he disgraces her by whoring!"

Ser Barristan narrowed his eyes at Jaime Lannister, "We are here to guard the king, Ser Jaime, _not_ to judge him."

" _You swore a vow to guard the king, Lannister. You do not judge him."_ The words of Ser Gerold Hightower as Rickard and Brandon Stark burned echoed in his mind. The smell of burning and rotting flesh returned and he wanted to gag at the memory. Ser Barristan remained none the wiser and continued to walk towards the brothel at which the king was at. Jaime turned his thoughts once more to Rhaella and looked to the sky. If the Seven were real, then Rhaella would surely be feasting and caring for the weak and wounded with the Mother.

" _I'm sorry."_ he thought to himself, " _I'm sorry I couldn't protect you too…"_

* * *

The quartet rode through the town before the great castle and noted that everyone was asleep. It would be a good thing, less suspicion. Rhaella would do the talking, and she had to come up with a story to get an audience with the wolf without finding herself and her children in shackles. They rode upon the gate and were greeted by a guard that couldn't have been any older than her Rhaegar was.

"What business do you have here so late at night?"

Rhaella sat up as straight as she could and placed a tone of most concern in her voice.

"We request an audience with Lord Stark. My children and I have been traveling for days and-"

"Lord Stark will not take any visitors," the guard groaned, "if you're looking for a handout there's an inn down the road."

The guard went to turn away but Ser Willem Darry cleared his throat, "And how would Lord Stark feel if you turned away his own family?"

 _Own family?_ Rhaella thought, this was not a part of the plan.

The guard and his companion who sat silent until now laughed, "You ain't Benjen Stark, and you ain't Lady Catelyn, so I don't know what you mean by family."

Darry tried to remember his Stark family tree and came up with two names that sounded like they belonged together, unknowingly getting them right, "Brandon Stark, son of Artos Stark who was the uncle to the late Lord Rickard, was my grandfather. We are cousins of Lord Eddard Stark."

The companion stood up from his chair and looked into Darry's eyes as best he could from the ground. "Well obviously ye' got your mother's looks. She a Southroner? Nah, don't matter. Yer last name Stark as well?"

Darry shook his head, "No, my mother was a Stark, she married a lowborn knight with no name."

Rhaella couldn't believe her ears, how was this working? Daenerys gurgled from beneath the furs she was suspended in and brought the attention of the two guards. The companion sighed and turned to the first guard, "Come'n Hallis, they got a babe with them. Even if they aren't who they say they are, Lord Stark will have 'ar heads if we turn away a babe."

Hallis groaned loud enough for Rhaella to hear. "Fine! But if this goes bad you take the blame, Bannen."

The newly named Bannen nodded and motioned for the quartet to follow. "I'll take ye' to milord's solar. He'll most likely give 'ye shelter for the night if your story isn't true. Hallis 'ill take your horses."

Rhaella thanked the men kindly and kept Viserys close as he jumped off his horse. They followed Bannen inside the castle and the queen knew that this was it. Everything would go south from here if Eddard Stark chose to remain loyal to his king. She could be condemning her children to die right here and now. Her heart was racing and she felt disassociated with the rest of the world around her. But Viserys brought her back by squeezing her hand. Her little dragon gave her a toothy grin, and Rhaella knew that perhaps she was making the right decision.

Bannen stopped them in front of a large oak door and gave a knock, "Wait right 'ere, be just a moment."

* * *

Lord Eddard Stark and Lord Roose Bolton could not sleep. Their minds had been buzzing since they had supped and now they were sitting in the solar planning trade routes late into the night. A line was being drawn on a map connecting Deepwood Motte to the Dreadfort when the knock at the door came. "Come!" he shouted, obviously annoyed by the interruption so late in the hour. When Bannen opened the door the Lord of Winterfell was… intrigued. "Is everything alright, Bannen? Hallis have a little too much drink to guard?"

"No milord," Bannen stated, "We got some folk out 'ere, say they're yer cousins, milord. Hallis wanted to turn 'em away but they 'ave a babe. Figured you'd want to see for yerself."

 _Cousins?_ The Lord of Winterfell had no cousins to his knowledge and Roose looked at him quite skeptical as well. Ned Stark nodded after a moment of confusion was plastered on his face. "Bring them in Bannen and close the door behind you."

Bannen nodded and bowed as he was dismissed, "Milord." He then opened the door and ushered the group into the solar. Eddard Stark sat straight in his chair, noting the two children with the adults. He would have to have a word with Hallis it would seem. "Bannen says you claim to be cousins of mine, but to my knowledge I have no cousins. I would have the truth from you."

The woman stepped forward, clutching her babe close to her chest. It reminded Ned of his Robb and Catelyn, how the woman would do anything for her son. "It is the truth, my lord, that we are not kin. However, we had nowhere else to turn."

Eddard Stark was about to ask who the woman was, but he didn't have to. The woman took off her hood and her lilac eyes shone in the light of the fire and proceeded to do the same with her son. Ned Stark stared at the boy's violet eyes and shook in his seat while Roose Bolton sputtered and spit out his wine.


	4. Chapter 4

**I know I said I would have this up about a week ago, but unfortunately I was hit with one of the worst illnesses I've had in a while and I've been out of commission since. However, I finally was able to get this chapter up!**

 **Just a reminder that this is an AU story, and I think in order for this to work some characters need to act a little differently than in the canon. Hopefully the deviation isn't too jarring to everyone! Thank you guys so much for all the reviews and favorites, it really makes my day and inspires me to write more. These first few chapters are among the harder ones to write simply getting everyone into their places for the main plot of the story, so please bear with me.**

 **I hope you all enjoy this chapter! And, if you haven't checked it out already, take a look at my new story _A Wolf's Vengeance_ which will be updated within a day of this story.**

* * *

"You look as if you've seen a ghost, my lord."

Rhaella Targaryen stared at the Lord of Winterfell, her arm clutching Viserys' shoulder tightly, daring anyone to take her child away from her. Roose Bolton was someone she was _not_ expecting in the slightest. In fact, she didn't even recognize him right off the bat, it was only the memory of his father that made Rhaella realize who else was in the room with her. _Good_. If he was anything like his father then perhaps he would be a good ally. Allies, Rhaella was already speaking as if she had secured safety for her children! She felt Ser Willem tense behind her as the silence grew, and Daenerys squirmed in her grasp. How long had they been standing here now, waiting for someone to speak? Roose Bolton's eyes were still widened, but Eddard Stark's eyes were of a nature she didn't expect from the man coined the most honorable man in Westeros; they were plotting.

"Roose." The Warden of the North finally croaked out, "Bread and salt."

"W-What?" the Leech Lord replied, "You realize who is standing in front of you, correct?"

"Aye I know full well who stands before me, and it is the command of your liege lord to grab the bread and salt."

Rhaella smiled softly at the younger lord, perhaps he was honorable after all. The pale lord shifted waringly towards the party after grabbing the bread and salt from behind Eddard Stark and handed it to Ser Willem.

"Mother?" Viserys piped up, "What's bread and salt?"

But before Rhaella could respond, the Lord of Winterfell smiled at the young Targaryen, "It means that you and your family are under my protection. No one will harm you here, less they incur the wrath of the Gods."

Viserys thought about that for a moment before accepting the bread and salt from the Kingsguard, trying his best not to make a face at the harsh taste of it. "Did father ever do this?" the child asked innocently, leaving everyone else in the room to tense up once more.

But thankfully Lord Stark was smarter than to indulge the boy and instead waved for everyone to be seated. Ser Willem Darry stood guard behind the queen as she sat gracefully, Viserys standing close and clutching his mother's arm.

"Why are you here?"

Rhaella had figured Eddard Stark would have no love for her family, especially after what her husband did to his father and brother. The smell of their burning flesh, the screams they gave, those memories would never leave her. After a moment of silence, Roose Bolton spoke as well.

"Even in the North we heard tales of your death, they said you lost your battle in the birthing chamber and your children were on their way to Essos."

 _Good,_ Rhaella thought once more. At least the servants of Dragonstone were loyal to her family after all. She queen sat up straight in her chair and tried her best to look like a queen, but even she knew that her actions held no weight here in the North. She was truly in the wolf's den.

"My son is the rightful king of Westeros," she said blatantly, "I plan to place him upon his throne."

"Robert Baratheon is king." Stark replied, but a hint of malice was noted when he mentioned the Usurper's name. His dark grey eyes landed on her daughter, sighing softly. "The Targaryens had many allies, and yet you chose to risk your children's lives and come to the North, to Winterfell, home of the new king's most faithful allies. I ask you again, Rhaella Targaryen, why are you here?"

The Kingsguard was about to make a comment about how the Quiet Wolf had not used her correct title, but Rhaella stopped him with a wave of her hand before he could possibly jeopardize her chance at securing a future for her children.

"It is no lie that I am taking a chance here, but truthfully, Lord Stark, I have nowhere else to turn." She ran her hand through Viserys' hair, looking down at her little dragon. "I wish to place my son upon his throne, but I cannot do it tomorrow. He needs to learn to rule Westeros different than his father did, and he needs a strong following behind him." Her violet eyes snapped back up to the Quiet Wolf's, "A Westeros where an incompetent leader who only has a mind for war does not rule."

"And you wish the North to back an exile of the Iron Throne?" Roose Bolton interjected, "We have no desire to fight another war, especially not for the family who murdered our liege and his heir."

"That will be all, Lord Bolton." Eddard Stark shot back, anger and sorrow in his eyes. He turned back to Rhaella, "Robert Baratheon was my closest friend, I named him my brother, but the man that sits upon the Iron Throne is not who I was raised with. He is a changed man, the letters I receive from the capital confirm that." The Quiet Wolf thought for a moment and looked to the Leech Lord, "Perhaps this is our answer, Roose. I have no desire to take the throne away from Robert, but I will not stand idly by while my people are treated like we are beneath the rest of the Seven Kingdoms."

Roose Bolton nodded after a moment of thought to himself, "It is a risky plan, even if we only harbor them here. The Targaryens have many enemies, and the Iron Throne has many spies. Are you willing to risk your own wellbeing and the wellbeing of your people to back a child?"

There was a long silence again that filled the room, it was obvious that Viserys didn't know what to think about it all. Rhaella sat there, staring down the Quiet Wolf. She knew that he couldn't say no, not as he stared more and more at the child that lay in her arms. Surely he thought about her own grandchildren as he stared at Daenerys.

"What are your terms?"

* * *

The Red Keep often made Cersei Lannister wonder about what went through Maegor's mind when he killed all of the workers who built this castle, what secrets had he been hiding? When she was younger her mother always told her stories about the many hidden passages that there were in the Red Keep, and how she and Rhaella Targaryen had found one back when King Aerys wasn't known as the Mad King. She felt at home here, more than she did at Casterly Rock, and perhaps it was because the color of the keep reminded her so much of her Lannister crimson; even though she probably knew the color was meant for blood. But then again, her father always told her that she would be queen. Perhaps that's why she felt so at home here...

Long gone were the days where a younger Cersei Lannister dreamt about Rhaegar Targaryen and having little Valyrian children running around. Now even whispering the name of House Targaryen would bring the wrath of her new husband down upon them. Bah, her new _husband,_ nothing more than a fool that swung his hammer at the right enemies. If Rhaegar had won then the king on the throne would be someone highly intelligent, someone who she would be proud enough to be married to. Not this… stag. She knew of his whoring and confronted him about it, but the bastard had simply laughed her off. Jaime confirmed that even now after they had been wed he still continued his whoring. Because she would never be Lyanna Stark. Damn her, damn that Stark girl, she ruined everything for Cersei. Had the Stark bitch not been around, Rhaegar could have crowned her his Queen of Love and Beauty, he could have started the war for _her._

Perhaps it was all a blessing in disguise, now that oaf ruled on the throne and instead of ruling alongside Rhaegar, she could rule alongside a more, malleable king. The queen pressed her hands together in front of her as she walked, flanked by Lannister guards, towards the Tower of the Hand. Jon Arryn was _not_ whom she was looking for, however. Instead, her father would be around these parts, and she knew she needed to speak with him before he ventured back to the Rock, leaving her stranded here. _Nay, not stranded._ Cersei's emerald eyes scanned the workers that were quickly taking down every inch of Targaryen symbolism and replacing them with Baratheon heirlooms. Perhaps she would have to speak to her husband, to show a Lion here or there around the keep. After all, it was her father that won him the war.

"Ser Lucion," the queen barked at her right guard, "do tell my father of my presence." The guard nodded and wandered into the small hall that the tower featured, returning seconds later and opening the door for his queen.

Tywin Lannister was suited in riding leathers, a sight Cersei hadn't seen in a long time. It would seem her father's plans had sped up sooner than expected, but why? She knew that he would not bow before her, and with a wave of her hands she dismissed her guards.

"And may I ask why you are not accompanied by a Kingsguard?"

Of course, straight to the point her father was. The queen sighed and shook her head, "It seems my husband has not assigned one to me. Surely he has better use of the Kingsguard than guarding his queen."

The Lord of Casterly Rock finished loading the small chest at his feet and turned to look at his daugher, "I assume you are not here to say your farewells, it was never like you to seek me out like a child. You must have a reason for this visit."

"Yes," she replied, knowing to tread carefully upon this next subject, "I wish to speak of the Rock."

Her father tensed up, "What about the Rock?"

"With Jaime in the Kingsguard, the Rock should fall to Tyrion upon your death." Tywin was about to speak, raging at the mere notion that a dwarf would rule the Rock, but Cersei quickly countered it with a smile. "I, however, have a better idea."

This intrigued Tywin, "And what is your _better_ idea?"

"Should I bare a second son, the Rock can fall to him. Your grandson will be the King of Westeros, and your other grandson will hold Casterly Rock. It will never fall into Tyrion's hands."

The Lord of Casterly Rock ground his teeth together in a manner that reminded Cersei of her new good-brother, Stannis, obviously plotting in his head. "Jaime is my heir, that is final." Robert Baratheon had denied her father's request to release Jaime from his vows, stating that he wanted the _Kingslayer_ to protect him. Kingslayer, she hated that name. Cersei was turning away when her father spoke once more.

"You did not let me finish, Cersei."

She stopped mid spin and returned to facing her father who still seemed focused on packing and getting ready for his departure.

"You speak of a second son when you do not even have a first in your womb. Do you even go to bed with your husband?" He gave her a sharp look not to answer that question before continuing. "Should you have a second son, perhaps I will consider it. But I will _not_ have a stag rule in place of a lion."

The queen grinned, "Do not worry father, I assure you my children will be more lion than stag." Especially after her plan went through. Her royal husband was going on a hunt within the fortnight, and she would begrudgingly lay with him. Thankfully, her husband decided that Jaime would stay and guard her. They would be alone, not a soul to catch them in the act. She would make sure it was Jaime's child on the throne, she would not have any child with black hair and blue eyes. Her little golden prince, and she would make sure he would be named as such.

* * *

How would his father react to even the notion of betraying his king? Surely Rickard Stark would have sent him to pray in the Godswood and then immediately mention the Wall. Eddard Stark remembered the day that Jon Arryn came to him with the news of his father and brother's demise at the hands of the king. He wept for the loss of his family, and he wept for the loss of his childhood, for he was now Lord of Winterfell. And then came the raven declaring for his head as well as Robert's. Jon Arryn called his banners, and that would be what scholars say the end of the Targaryen dynasty. But was it really the end? Reports had come to him weeks ago about the death of Rhaella Targaryen, and yet here she was in front of him looking stronger than ever. The babe in her arms reminded him so much of Jon when he was that young. Jon… _Promise me, Ned._

It wouldn't be that hard to keep this under wraps, with Roose Bolton at his side, Eddard Stark knew he could keep these plans from falling into the wrong hands. The North kept to themselves and the rest of the Seven Kingdoms seemed to be thankful for it. Only a few Southroners thought about the North in a way different than calling them savages. Even Robert had once called him a savage for suggesting they themselves go out and hunt instead of making the servants of the Eyrie do it. He would never forget that day, it was the only day he felt as if Robert truly didn't care about their friendship. How could he had been so blind to see what Robert had become? And now the Baratheon king who couldn't take no for an answered was probably going to try and take advantage of the North whenever he could. No, he would not let that happen.

"What are your terms?" he had asked the former queen, not knowing whether he would accept them. At the very least, the Quiet Wolf would allow the Targaryens asylum until they found somewhere to go outside of Westeros where they would be safe. He had heard about Robert declaring a large bounty for whomever brought him the heads of the Targaryen children. Children… His old friend and brother-in-arms was willing to kill children just to secure his damned legacy? No, he would not follow a king like that if he had the choice… But what would Rhaella ask of him? Surely he couldn't offer much.

"My terms are simple, Lord Stark, for I am not in a situation to demand much now am I?" she paused as he smiled softly at her jape. "No," he responded, "I suppose you aren't."

"You will swear fealty to my son, Viserys, and help him gain his throne back from the Baratheon usurper. When he is of age and ready to take back his throne, the North will fight alongside him."

"Surely you wish for more, Lady Rhaella." Roose noticed, "You ask for the Northern army, but you could get an army anywhere. Why come here, to the North?"

"Thank you, Lord Bolton, for interrupting me." The queen stared at the Leech Lord, making even him squirm. "I was not finish."

"Apologies." Roose squeaked out, slinking back into his chair. The Lord of Winterfell nodded to the Targaryen queen to continue.

"I want you to help raise my son, Lord Stark. Tales of your honor were heard even in Aerys' court by those who were in the shadows. Raise him to be a better king, a better king than Aerys." she paused for a moment, "And, should the Gods will it, you will betroth Viserys to your firstborn daughter, to ensure your loyalty."

There it was, she needed a queen for her little dragon. A loyal queen by the sounds of it.

"You speak of a daughter I do not have, Rhaella. I have two sons, and my wife is not with child. What if I never have a daughter, what would your plan be then?"

The queen thought to herself for a moment, "Arrangements would be made."

"And your own daughter? Why not betroth Viserys to his sister as the Targaryens did in the past?"

Rhaella shook her head, "No, I will not. The time of marrying within the family is over. I will find Daenerys a suitable husband and Viserys will marry your daughter, Lord Stark."

"That's even if my lord agrees." Roose pointed out, but even Eddard could see the wheels turning in Roose's mind. Perhaps this would be a good idea after all…

"You have a son, don't you Lord Bolton? Perhaps my daughter could be betrothed to him? If that would make Lord Stark agree."

Ser Willem saw the faint hint of a smile on Bolton's face as he looked towards his liege. The idea of a royal bride for such a low ranking lord would bring a smile to anyone's face. He thought it was a bad move, Daenerys would be a valuable asset, and Rhaella was willing to throw her to the first Northern heir she found. The Tyrells, the Martells, hell even the Greyjoys could have been targets to betroth the princess to to bring them into the fold. But Rhaella's word was law, he was simply a kingsguard. _We do not judge the king._

Eddard Stark sat silently in his chair as he thought over his options. His honor screamed at him to never betray his king, but his honor also screamed not to turn away these children and their mother.

 _Promise me, Ned…_

 _I see no babes, only dragonspawn._

 _Promise me, Ned…_

 _The North will provide the amount listed towards the construction of a new tourney arena so all knights in Westeros can compete._

 _Promise me, Ned…_

 _Bah, what does a Northern savage know about secrecy? Keep your leech to yourself, Ned._

 _Promise me._

"Roose," he said, not taking his eyes off of the young boy in front of him who seemed terrified to be here, "prepare a raven."

"To whom, my lord?"

"To Lord Manderly, tell him to start construction on a fleet fit for a king. To Lord Mormont, tell him to send lesson plans for how they train their children on Bear Island. And send a raven to Lord Arryn." he paused for just a moment, "Tell him that the North declines any asinine tourney expenses henceforth."

Roose Bolton understood everything, and had it been a later year in his life he might have tried to spin this on its head in a way where he would come out on top. However, if everything went well he would have a princess marrying his Domeric, perhaps the Boltons would become dragonriders. No, this information would cost him and his son their heads if it was misconstrued. He would not be the reasons the Boltons rebelled again. The Leech Lord nodded and scurried his way past Ser Willem, but turned and bowed before he opened the door.

"Your grace, my king."

Viserys' eyes widened and he turned to Lord Stark, "You'll keep us safe, Lord Stark?"

The Quiet Wolf nodded, "Aye, it seems I will, your grace."

But something was wrong, Rhaella could feel it in her bones. There was almost a pain in the Stark lord's eyes, a pain that she recognized as the same she felt when she heard of Rhaegar's death. Perhaps he was mourning the loss of his brother-in-arms?

"I have not been truthful with you, your grace." Ser Willem smirked at that, _how quickly he remembers his honorifics._ But Eddard continued, "I ask that you follow me, I will take you to the nursery where your daughter can sleep peacefully. And in there… In there is someone you need to meet."


	5. Chapter 5

**Whaaaaat? An update so quickly? What is this!? Well, I rushed this update so I could post it alongside the new chapter of _A Wolf's Vengeance_ , because hopefully that's how my stories will always be updated, side by side. **

**A quick note because I've been getting a lot, and I mean _a lot,_ of reviews and private messages about Jon's pairing. I really want to know where everyone got the idea that I said Jon and Daenerys would be paired together, because they seem so sure about it. Well I'm here to set the record straight, JonxDaenerys will NOT be happening. Nope, no sir. I have plans for Jon that do not include his aunt. As for Daenerys, well, we'll see if Roose gets his way in the end. This is (most likely) the _only_ time I'll be telling you guys any future plot information. Most of it is locked away in my notes, but that is the major point that needed to be said. Also most, if not all, of the end pairings have been decided on months ago and it would take a strong reason for me to change any of them. If you guys think I should put a disclaimer in the first chapter notes to say this is not a JonxDany story, let me know!**

 **But, without any further ado, here's the next chapter! I hope you all enjoy it!**

* * *

Stannis Baratheon sat in his designated chair and ground his teeth together as he awaited his _wonderful_ king of a brother to give him the time of day. Jon Arryn thankfully had found a way into Robert's heart to award him the position Master of Ships, and therefore he was allowed to stay in King's Landing and not have to return to that wretched island. Well, not yet anyways. Stannis knew that one day he would have to return to Dragonstone and take up his new lordly responsibilities, but the anger still flowed as he thought about Storm's End. That should be _his_ lordship, he should be the Lord Paramount. But no, he had failed in his mission. His dark black hair tickled his ears in the breeze coming from the open window, he would have to remember to get it cut sooner or later. The Baratheon lord waited patiently for his brother in the king's solar, but to his very little surprise it was Jon Arryn that stepped into the doorway.

"Lord Stannis, a pleasure."

"Lord Arryn," Stannis fired back, "I assume you are here on behalf of my brother. Might I ask where our wonderful king is?"

Arryn didn't want to reply, but he knew Stannis would get it out of him sooner or later. "The brothels."

Stannis rolled his eyes, "He disgraces his queen and his family. I would understand if she refused to give him an heir, but if I know anything about Tywin Lannister she'll be doing everything she can to get his grandson on the throne."

Jon Arryn sighed, "Yes I know, I try to talk him out of it but he won't hear it."

"So why did my brother want me here?"

Jon pressed his hands together on the desk as he sat down, "Robert has decided it's time for you to wed, to ensure that Dragonstone has a loyal family for another generation."

Groaning, Stannis rubbed his face in disgust, "And whom does he wish me to wed, hm? A Lannister like him?"

"Actually," Jon started, "he said you should pick."

 _What?_

His brother was actually going to give him a choice of whom he should wed? Bah, it was a trick, wasn't it? The more he looked at Jon Arryn he figured it was not a trick, and his brother was actually going to give him some freedom. Hm, whom should he wed then? Perhaps it was something to discuss with himself at another time.

"Is that all, Lord Arryn?"

The Hand of the King shook his head, "No, it is not. I have sent word to the North about the tourney, and I have yet to receive a response from them. I am concerned the raven was lost, or Ned is refusing to comply."

"Stark was angry with Robert about the Targaryen children, even Lyanna's death didn't bring them as close as they were." _Still closer than we ever were…_ "The Northerners are not known for their tourneys, I can't even think of any Northern knights."

"I didn't want to send him the message, but it was Robert's perseverance that persuaded me. I think I have another idea, however."

Stannis narrowed his eyes, "I cannot afford to pay for what the North is expected to pay, Lord Arryn."

"No, you personally cannot, but the gold in Dragonstone from the Targaryens can."

The younger Baratheon remembered at the coffers he and his men had found at Dragonstone when they went to secure the remaining Targaryens. Rhaegar had been preparing for something, that was for sure, for there was enough coinage there to rival even the Lannisters on a bad day.

"Are you suggesting use Dragonstone's coffers to pretend the North has paid its dues?"

"I am not suggesting, Stannis, I am telling you what we are to do. I will not have Robert go to war with Ned over something as small as this. I assure you, I will make sure you are personally rewarded."

It was a decent plan, one that his brother would be none the wiser about, but at the same time all the gold in Dragonstone technically belonged to him. "What are you willing to offer, Lord Arryn?"

The Valeman rubbed his chin in thought, "I could put your name forward for Hand once I'm gone, or I could help you find a bride suitable enough for your standards.

 _Hand of the King_. It would be a lie to say the thought didn't intrigue him, it would be the highest honor he could receive, and it would surely mean that he wouldn't have to stay at that wretched Targaryen island anymore. He nodded, "I think we can work something out." Arryn nodded back with a smile. "now that the formalities are out of the way, my lord, may I say that I heard some rather… odd things from your wife?"

Jon Arryn rolled his eyes, "Yes yes I've heard about them too." Lysa Arryn had been going around the keep speaking with all of the servants asking for moon tea of all things. "I will have to speak with her, I will not have my future child be killed just because she despises me." Jon had lost his kin in the war against the Targaryens and if he died then the line would pass onto the Hardyng line of the Vale. What was the newborn's name, Harrold? Sure they would instantly legitimized into Arryns upon their ascension, but to Jon it didn't seem right. It would be like the Karstarks taking over Winterfell should something happen to Ned and his children.

"Maybe I should work to find a wife who doesn't despise me." Stannis japed, to which Jon Arryn scoffed and mumbled, "Take Lysa off my hands." The two lords shared a small chuckle but quickly returned to their normal selves.

"Perhaps I could foster your future child," Stannis suggested, "it wouldn't be such a bad idea in exchange for the Targaryen coffers."

"No, I suppose not. Alright Stannis, you have a deal. Now, to find you a bride."

* * *

"What are your orders?"

"To protect the Queen."

"And?"

"To provide a voice on the small council if it conveens in your stead as the voice of the Kingsguard."

Barristan Selmy nodded and clapped Jaime Lannister on the shoulder. "I think you'll be fine, Ser Jaime."

The hunting party that the king was heading was preparing to depart, and Robert Baratheon had decided to leave Jaime Lannister alone in the keep to protect his sister in case danger should fall. _The dragonspawn brats are probably sending assassins everyday, I will not have my queen killed because of my brother's inability to capture them._ Selmy remembered trying to remind the king that the Targaryen children were only aged six and a newborn, half a world away, but the king would not have it and reminded him to stay in his place. Selmy took note to remember his vows, _we do not judge the king._ At least the king held a little love for his queen to protect her, but Selmy figured it was more because she could possibly be carrying his heir. Ser Barristan hoped and prayed to the Seven that the queen's womb would quicken so he could help train the children to be great knights. Maybe the second or third son would join the Kingsguard. _That_ would be an honor to train.

"Thank you, Ser Barristan," Jaime responded, "I hope I won't disappoint you."

Jaime seemed on edge, something was the matter, and the fact that Ser Mandon Moore wasn't back with Robert meant that they could speak somewhat openly. "Something troubles you."

Unbeknownst to him, Jaime was concerned about the plan that Cersei had laid out in front of him. It would be treason, but the warm embrace of Cersei seemed to sooth his mind. But now, Cersei was not here, and the man that trusted him the most was standing before him.

"Nothing, Ser, just trying to tell myself everything is going to be alright."

Barristan offered a comforting smile to the younger Kingsguard, "Do not worry Jaime, the king wouldn't leave you here alone if he didn't trust you."

 _He shouldn't trust me!_ Jaime wanted to scream.

Selmy thought of Jaime as a son to him in all honesty, especially after the deaths of Arthur Dayne and Rhaegar Targaryen. Jaime had been devastated to learn of Rhaegar's death, but when news of Arthur came to the capital, Selmy had him confined to the White Gold Tower to feign an illness. He would not have been in suitable shape to protect his king. No, in truth Barristan could protect the king alone simply because their new king was a warrior. He wouldn't dare take Robert Baratheon in a fight, even with his skill and knowledge of the sword. Did Jaime think of him as a father figure? No, Tywin Lannister was still around making sure Jaime remembered he was a lion. Barristan knew of the old lion's plans to remove Jaime from the Kingsguard, but even he knew that a Kingsguard's vows were for life. It would be frowned upon even if Robert decided to remove him from their order.

Surely Tywin Lannister's pride would hold him back from disgracing his son.

Finally the big booming voice of the king could be heard coming from the horses riding over the horizon. Ser Barristan saddled his horse and looked down at the young Kingsguard, "I trust you will do well, Ser Jaime."

The Lannister nodded, "I will do my best."

"Selmy! What's taking so long?" The king shouted as he closed in on the two.

"Nothing your grace, just making sure Ser Jaime will be alright during our absence."

The king laughed, "You're worried about the Kingslayer? He'll be fine! He's only guarding his sister."

 _Kingslayer._ Barristan knew that Jaime hated that name, but thankfully the boy didn't flinch like he had previously. Good, it would be better for him to ignore the name now and put his anger for it towards his duty. "That's also your queen, your grace." But Baratheon scoffed at Selmy and looked down at the golden knight.

"You will be fine, won't you, Lannister?"

Jaime nodded, "Yes, your grace. The queen will be well protected while you are away."

"Good, now, let's ride!"

The party took off on their horses, leaving Jaime Lannister in the dust. He turned his back and his white cloak flowed in the breeze. Now that everyone was gone, his mind went to one thing and one thing only, Cersei. It was treason, he shouldn't be doing this, Rhaegar would frown upon him from the grave. But no, his sister had him under her spell. They hadn't lay together since that night years ago, and quick passionate kisses were all that they had been able to steal from one another. But tonight would be different. Tonight his vows would be broken once again, but this time it was _not_ for the good of the realm.

But what did it matter? The realm hated him anyways.

* * *

Ser Willem had been shown the chambers where the Targaryens would sleep. _Brandon Stark's_ chambers, even Darry recognized the irony there. Stark had wished for only Rhaella to accompany him to the nursery for god knows why. Was it a trap? Was he going to separate mother and child and then send for the Usurper? It had taken his every effort to obey his queen's commands to let her and her daughter be alone with the wolf. But, he had to protect his king. A child of six, nay, seven? He truly didn't know and would simply wait for his name day to avoid the embarrassment. This child was seemingly like any other child, but he knew he was royalty, he knew he was a king. Perhaps he would be a more successful Daeron the Young, or would he slip into the madness that claimed his father? _No._ He would _not_ let that happen. The Kingsguard knight sat in the chair next to the bed where the boy king lay restless, trying to feign sleep until his mother returned.

Darry noted the paintings all around the room, it was obvious that Brandon Stark loved to hunt as many depicted the Starks of Winterfell hunting. But one painting stood out the most, a large black wolf, nay, direwolf, with blood red eyes. It was placed in a way where the wolf was watching over the bed, staring menacingly at the young Targaryen that was tossing and turning there, almost judging him. Surely Viserys would think nothing of it if it had been a dragon, but this was a direwolf, and they were truly in the wolf's den now.

"Ser Willem?" the boy questioned, his voice squeaking highly, reminding the knight of his very young age. "What's going to happen now?"

The knight thought for a moment and sighed, "Truthfully your grace? I am not sure. Your mother seems to have secured an alliance that will secure you your throne. I'm sure Lord Stark and your mother will know what lies ahead."

"No, I know that. But, is it true? Will I have to marry Lord Stark's daughter?"

Ha, a boy so young as he should not be worried about marriage.

"Lord Stark may never have a daughter, your grace, remember that. He only has a son as of now."

"And a bastard, that's what the servants said, I heard them talking." Darry's breath hitched, the child knew such a word? "Father called Rhaegar that once and got really angry at mother, but I don't know what it means. I know it's not a nice word." _Oh gods._ Darry did not want to explain to Viserys what a bastard was nor why his father thought Rhaegar of all people was one. There were whispers that Viserys was one, but as he grew the boy looked almost exactly like Aerys had in his youth, and that put the kibosh to those rumors. Well, and the burnings, those too. But for now, Darry would simply avoid the implied question of what a bastard was and focused on another matter entirely.

"You may be under Lord Stark's protection, but I would be wary, your grace. You will never truly be safe until you sit upon the Iron Throne."

"I know," he whispered, and Darry felt almost guilty. A boy his age should not be worried about where his next meal came from or whether an assassin would come in the middle of the night. He hoped that Rhaella was right in the fact that Stark would help them secure the Iron Throne. He would be the first in line to gut the wolf if he tried otherwise.

"Ser Willem?"

Darry was pulled from his thoughts and looked up to see the violet eyes of his young king staring back at him. "Yes, your grace?"

"The dagger that Rhaegar gave me. Can you teach me how to use it?"

A small smile ran over Darry's face, "Of course, your grace. Now, you should get some rest."

The boy shook his head, "No, not until mother returns."

And so the two sat in silence, not knowing what was happening in the nursery. Darry thought to himself and mused about how much different Viserys could be to his father. Where Aerys burned and threatened, Viserys would learn how to council and be diplomatic. He could imagine the boy as a man, imagining a skinnier version of Rhaegar in his prime, with a crown atop his head that was reminiscent of Aegon the Conqueror's. But would Stark have a daughter, that would remain to be seen. If not, whom would Rhaella demand Viserys marry? Daenerys was out of the question, she had made that perfectly clear, but hopefully she wouldn't look to the North. No, perhaps the Tyrells would have a daughter soon, or she could betroth him to Arianne Martell who -if he remember correctly- was only a few moons younger than the king.

And then she suggested betrothing Daenerys to the Bolton boy. Bah, that was infuriating. Rhaella was putting all of her eggs in one basket, what if the North betrayed them? What if the North failed? Hell, if Rhaella wanted to betroth Daenerys to a Northman there were plenty of other choices than a _Bolton!_ Even he knew of the bloody past surrounding the former Red Kings, even their banner still showed such damned imagery that Southron children used it to scare their siblings. And besides, the Leech Lord gave Darry the creeps to say the least. Maybe though Stark would offer up a better suggestion. Or was he trying to ensure Bolton's loyalty? Such were questions for later, for now he had to fight off sleep. Just until Rhaella returned. Stark had offered a selection of his guards to stand watch outside the chambers which Rhaella welcomed gladly, but Darry didn't trust Stark and his men just yet. He would sleep when his queen returned safe and sound. What was taking her so damn long? Who the hell was so important for her to meet? Surely if it was Lady Stark they could have their womanly talks in the morning, not when the moon was at its zenith!

A small snore broke him from his thoughts and he noticed that his king had finally fallen asleep. With a small smile, Ser Willem Darry stood and covered the boy with a large fur blanket. Was this bearskin? He ran his hand over the boy's head, brushing his hair out of his face. "Goodnight, your grace." Darry knew if he sat back down he would fall asleep, and even though he could hear Stark's guards chattering about some girl from the brothel the noise wouldn't be enough to keep him awake. Instead, the Kingsguard stood in front of the bed, his sword drawn and positioned into the floor, standing guard over his king, awaiting for the queen to return.

But at this point, Darry doubted she would.


	6. Chapter 6

**And we're back!**

 **I know I got a lot of flak for not posting the Jon reveal last chapter, but I knew that I wanted to make it a whole chapter dedicated towards it. Patience is a virtue, my dear readers! I post things in a certain order for a reason! Also I promise you guys Rhaella didn't take her children to the North penniless, but on the other hand she had no idea of the wealth Rhaegar had hidden that was described last chapter. Then again, Jon Arryn and Stannis could have been overestimating how much was truly there; probably added the total to how much the decor around the castle would be worth. ;)**

 **See you guys at the end of the chapter for a quick word! Enjoy~**

* * *

It had taken all of her persuading to let Ser Willem leave her alone with Eddard Stark as they wandered the corridors of Winterfell on their way to the nursery. Even still, the Kingsguard knight did not trust the man. He had claimed it was a trap, but the queen had reminded him that she was under his protection, and he was one of the most honorable men in the North if not Westeros. She would be fine! Besides, she was a dragon, and even as old as she was at eight-and-thirty she was not going to let the Quiet Wolf walk all over her. No, she would fight back and make sure that her children were safe and sound. Even if it meant the cost of her own life, she would make sure they were alright and able to live and fight for the throne that Aegon the Conqueror had built for them. The Lord of Winterfell had offered his arm to the queen, a very courteous offer, and they walked down what seemed to be the seventh long corridor of their journey. This castle was large, and Rhaella had to wonder which was larger, this or the Red Keep. It had to have been close.

The castle was warmer than expected, but if the queen remembered correctly it was because of the hot springs that this castle was built upon. She had remembered speaking of the idea with Aerys when they were children, how they would have to go and swim in these famous hot springs if the Starks allowed it. Aerys had made a comment about how if he was king they couldn't deny him. Even then she should have seen it, even then she should have been trying to stop the madness. Had her father been able to see it when he was younger? No, of course he couldn't have, he was more concerned about prophecy. Prophecy were a fickle thing, and one that she never wanted to be apart of. Prophecy even took her son Rhaegar and perhaps that was the cause of his death as well. Her maddening thoughts were silenced however when Eddard Stark finally broke the silence between the two.

"Your daughter, I never asked her name."

Rhaella smiled down at the young girl in her arms, "Her name is Daenerys."

"Did you name her after Daenys the Dreamer, or after Daenerys, the daughter of Aegon the Fourth?"

The Targaryen queen was impressed, "You know your history, Lord Stark!"

Eddard sheepishly grinned, "Aye, when I was a young boy in the tiltyard, Brandon and I would always pretend to be Targaryen kings. But when there were five Aegons, we had to know which one we were pretending to be." He chuckled to himself, "I was always fond of Aegon the Fifth."

The queen smiled, "My grandfather was a kind man, I was very fond of him as well." And had it not been for Summerhall, her grandfather might have still been here. Her uncle, Prince Duncan, would have made sure to whip Aerys into shape had he started to go mad. All because of those thrice damned prophecies. But she supposed it would be fitting for her son to have been obsessive over a prophecy after having been born during the events of Summerhall, something that had been related to a prophecy in itself. She could still remember the fires that took Summerhall as she gave birth to her eldest. _Oh Rhaegar…_ What was it he had been going on about? The Prince that was Promised? It was the same prophecy, she believed at least, that her grandfather had been obsessed with. At least _he_ had tried to bring dragons back into the world.

But the dragons were gone, and their riders were on the brink of extinction.

Summerhall, the Rebellion, what had the Targaryens done wrong to bring forth the wrath of the Seven? Had it been because the Targeryens had let their dragons die out? Had it been because of their continued marriages to their close kin? Had someone cursed them? The queen sat in her thoughts, however somber they might be, barely listening to the history lesson that Ned Stark was telling her about Winterfell and how it was built by Bran the Builder; everyone knew of that story. But what Stark had said to her about someone she needed to meet, it piqued her curiosity. Was it Lady Stark? Surely that could have waited until after the sun rose in the morning. No, the Quiet Wolf was up to something, something that the Valyrian queen could _not_ put her finger on. Why the secrecy? Why only her? Had Varys found his way up to the great white North? If he did, then she would have some choice words to say to him at least. Letting open the gates for the Lannisters, that move cost her the lives of her grandchildren. Varys was lucky he was a eunuch already, because if he hadn't been, Rhaella would make sure that he was by the time she was done with him.

Finally after what seemed like another ten long corridors, the Lord of Winterfell stopped in front of a large black oak door. He paused, his hand gripping the handle, almost as if he didn't want to show her what was inside. She wouldn't question him, it was late and he was probably simply tired. A woman's voice could be heard, shushing a babe inside, and Eddard's eyes widened. This voice gave him the strength to open the door it seemed, and a large sigh of relief washed over the Warden of the North.

"Cat, why are you awake at this hour?"

Catelyn Stark was every bit a Tully as Rhaella could have imagined her being. From the fiery hair to the shining blue eyes that she could see reflecting the candlelight, but that nose was a Whent's nose. Ah yes, wasn't her mother a Whent? There was a time when Rhaella had known all of the Lords and Ladies of the realm and whom married one another, but such a time for that had passed. Aerys had never asked her for council on matters involving the realm, only to bare him his heirs. She wondered how Ned Stark let his wife rule, if he even did at all. It would be an interesting thing to note, because if he was to help raise her son, Viserys would look up to and take after all that Lord Stark did. Rhaella stayed back, wary of stepping foot into the nursery, but a smile from Eddard persuaded her to come forward and shut the door behind her.

"Robb was crying," the Lady of Winterfell responded, not looking up from her child, "I assume his tooth is bothering him. I will have to ask Luwin for a remedy." Had it not been for Daenerys gurgling in her arms, Catelyn Stark most likely would have never looked up. Her eyes widened and her mouth went dry. "W-Who? Ned?"

"This is Rhaella Targaryen, my lady. And her daughter the princess Daenerys."

Catelyn Stark hadn't been as dumbfounded as she was in this very instance in such a long time. Her Tully eyes jot back and forth between the Targaryen queen and her husband. "I-I know _who_ it is," she finally sputtered out, "But why? I thought you had perished, my lady."

Rhaella nodded, "A story to cover up our movements, I am thrilled to see that it has worked."

The Lady of Winterfell stood and placed her firstborn into his crib, "Excuse my frankness, but _why_ are you here?"

Eddard Stark sighed, "Cat." But he couldn't get out the words. So instead, Rhaella took over for the younger lord. "Robert Baratheon has insulted the North for the last time. Your husband has sworn fealty to my son and will back his claim for the Iron Throne."

Confusion was what the queen expected to see on the face of Catelyn Stark, but anger was what followed. She inhaled a sharp breath and her nostrils flared as she scolded her husband. "You did _what!?_ "

"Cat, I-"

"No, Ned, you didn't even consult me on this!" She proceeded to stand close enough to Eddard to make the lord step back, something that Rhaella was shocked at. "You decided the _largest_ and most _treasonous_ action without _me_! I am your wife, I should have a say in whether you put _our_ son in danger!"

Eddard wanted to yell back, to say that he was the Lord of this castle, but he knew that Catelyn was right. He sighed, once more, his eyes looking towards another crib in the corner of the nursery. "Robb will always be in danger, he has been since the moment I returned from Dorne."

"What do you mean?" Catelyn pushed, "How was he in more in danger then than he is _now_?"

Eddard Stark did not answer his wife, but instead turned to Rhaella and offered his hands out for him to take Daenerys. She obliged after a moment of hesitation, but her racing heart slowed as he placed her in the crib next to his son Robb. But instead of returning to listen to another lecture from his wife, the young lord strode to the crib in the corner of the room and picked up another sleeping child. His back remained turned to the women in the room as he cradled the child close to his chest. His voice shook with sorrow, guilt, and anger. It was low, lower than she had ever heard his voice before. Almost as if he was admitting the worst crime to the Gods.

"Lyanna's bones were not the only thing I returned from Dorne with."

Catelyn sneered, "Your _bastard_? What harm would he be except for usurping my son's place in succession?"

But Eddard didn't respond to his wife and instead turned to Rhaella and brought the sleeping child before her. Rhaella was unaware that Eddard Stark bore a bastard, and she had to think of whom the child's mother could be. Ashara Dayne? A common tavern wench? A Northern lady? The more she thought about it, the braver she thought Eddard was. Keeping his bastard in plain sight alongside his half-brother. Most lords kept their shame secret, sending money to them whenever their mothers needed it. Rhaella had once wondered if Aerys had any bastards roaming the Seven Kingdoms, but Varys has assured her that no dragonseed had been spread beyond their own children. They truly were the last of the Targaryens. Or, so she thought. When Eddard Stark handed her his bastard, she heard Catelyn scoff and if rolling one's eyes could produce an audible sound, she would have heard them too. Confused, the queen took the child into her arms.

"His name is Jon."

Her body shook. A cold chill swept within her. The babe's eyes were staring right up at her into her own. Those eyes, so dark that with his dark brown hair they would be considered black. Those eyes, those dark dark eyes, those were Aegon the Unlikely's eyes. Those were Rhaegar's eyes. Her hand reached up and clasped her mouth, suffocating the sob that rocked through her body. She held the babe within her left arm and collapsed to her knees on the floor. Eddard reached out to catch her or the babe, but Rhaella shook her head and shooed him away. How? How? She could not speak. She clutched the babe to her chest and the tears rolled down her face. She didn't understand, if this was supposedly Eddard Stark's bastard… Catelyn Stark was also confused, looking at her husband with questioning eyes.

"H-How?" Rhaella finally croaked out.

"When I arrived at the Tower of Joy, I found Lyanna in a bed of blood. As she died in my arms, she made me promise. Promise to take care of her child. To take care of _Rhaegar's_ child."

Catelyn Stark's eyes widened with realization, and they quickly went to anger. "You shamed me for almost a year. You made me believe that child was _your_ bastard. You couldn't trust me enough to tell me the truth?"

 _His name is Jon._ He had said, a Northern name, one not to incite suspicion. One could also say it was after Jon Arryn. Rhaella's tears dropped onto the babe's face, earning a gurgle from him. Her Rhaegar lived through this child, and he would have died here in the North as a bastard, unaware of his heritage. _Was he a bastard?_ She didn't care. She wanted to be angry at the Lord of Winterfell, she wanted to scream at him for not telling her sooner, for hiding her only living grandchild in plain sight. And yet, she couldn't bring herself to be angry. She brushed his dark curls back, he was definitely Lyanna Stark's child, and wiped her tears off of his face. Rhaegar's eyes stared up at her, curiously. Yes, those were without a doubt her child's eyes. Well, the shape of them anyways. The color, well, his dark curls helped paint the picture of him being Northern. No doubt those were dark purple, the color of her grandfather's.

Rhaella looked up through her tears, a sobbing mess on the floor and looking nothing like a queen should, and she met Eddard's eyes. Those eyes that reminded her hauntingly of his father's as he had died in the Red Keep. She shuddered and tried to compose herself, but she couldn't. He offered her a hand and she took it, and when she stood she pulled the younger lord into a hug, one that the Quiet Wolf was _not_ expecting.

"Thank you." It was said in a whisper, for that was all she could muster.

* * *

When Rhaella finally settled down, she was sitting in an old rocking chair holding her grandson. Catelyn Stark was letting her husband have it, and Eddard was taking it all gracefully. Finally, after all she said, the Lord of Winterfell simply looked into her eyes and muttered, "Jon is my blood, I will always protect my blood." That did not seem to appease the Tully girl and she left in a fit of fury that would have rivaled a Baratheon. She at least took care not to slam to door and wake the entire castle. Eddard Stark sat down in a chair across the room and placed his face in his hands.

"She'll never speak with me again."

"She is young, she is angry. Give her time, Lord Stark."

The Quiet Wolf chuckled softly, jesting as he rubbed his hands down his face, "Viserys might never get his Stark queen now."

Rhaella brushed her grandson's hair with her hand softly, rubbing a small circle behind his ear. She remembered it was the only thing that had calmed Rhaegar down when he was a young babe, before he had grown into such a melancholy warrior. Eddard Stark looked up and his eyes focused on Jon. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about him sooner. I didn't want you taking him away…"

"You made a promise to your sister," the queen whispered, "I understand why you did it."

SIlence between them commenced as Eddard fidgeted with his fingers. Rhaella broke the silence between them, "How long would you have kept him a bastard? How long would you have lied to him?"

A deep and heavy sigh came from Stark's mouth, "Truthfully? Forever if I had to. He is Rhaegar Targaryen's child, some would have fought to put him on the throne."

"And you?" The queen asked with an eyebrow raised, "Would you have fought to put him on the Iron Throne?"

" _No._ " He was blunt and his tone was final.

She nodded, "Had I died when I gave birth to Daenerys, I couldn't imagine what would have happened to my children. They would have grown up not knowing their nephew, but they could have been on different sides of the war if it came to it." She paused for a moment, "Does anyone else know?"

"Howland Reed," he replied, "he was the only survivor of the battle."

A Crannogman, she recalled, surely he would not be one to run and scream this information from the mountaintops.

But now came the most important part. Eddard Stark had revealed to her that another Targaryen was in the world, a Targaryen that some could argue had a stronger claim to the throne. "Is he a bastard?" she whispered, "Or is he trueborn?" She assumed it was the former, she couldn't imagine any annulment between her son and Elia Martell happening.

"I'm not sure," Eddard admitted, "but Lyanna was never the type to agree to carry a bastard."

Hm, he had a point. If only Rhaegar had been here to tell them what happened, if only he had sent a raven detailing his plans. Rhaella's violet eyes met Eddard's grey eyes which looked as hard as stone.

"Viserys will be king." She declared, testing the wolf. But he surprisingly fired back instantly, "Viserys will be king." A pause while he looked from Jon to his own son, Robb, and then back at Jon. "I never wanted him to be king, Lyanna didn't want it either."

"What is his name, Lord Stark, his _true_ name?"

Stark's grey eyes went from as soft as fog to hardening like the stone walls of this castle. " _Jon_."

 _That would not do._ This boy was a Targaryen, not a Stark. "He needs a Targaryen name, a _royal_ name."

"Forgive me if I'm wrong, your grace, but Duncan was not a Targaryen name either."

She sucked her teeth at that one, it was true that her uncle had been named after her grandfather's childhood friend and protector Ser Duncan the Tall instead of a traditional Targaryen name. She knew she had been defeated in that regard, "For appearances, he must remain Jon Snow. The world must know him as your bastard as much as it pains me."

The Quiet Wolf smiled at that, he had won this little battle. But Rhaella would win the war, she would make sure this child knew he was a dragon, even if he looked like a Stark. She thought for a moment about the child's deep purple eyes, the eyes of her grandfather. Aegon? No, that was the name of his brother, there couldn't be two Aegons. But, now that she thought about it, her father had those eyes as well.

 _Jaehaerys_. She thought, _Jaehaerys will be your name._

He would be known as Jon Snow for now, but soon, she would make sure that Westeros knew that Viserys Targaryen was backed by his nephew. A new branch of Targaryens would spawn from this child. She would have to make sure she found a suitable bride when he got older. Surely Eddard Stark would wish a Northern girl for his "son", but Rhaella knew that a Targaryen was respected mainly by their looks now that the dragons were gone. She would do everything in her power to make sure the Valyrian looks were passed onto her great-grandchildren. Hopefully the Velaryons or the Celtigars would have a daughter soon. Or perhaps she would look to Essos for a bride there as Steffon Baratheon had once tried to accomplish for Rhaegar.

But that could be taken care of in the morning. For now, sleep overtook her as she slunk in the old rocking chair with her grandson in her arms. For tonight was the first night in a long while she slept peacefully. A new hope was brewing for House Targaryen, and Westeros would rue the day they turned their backs to the North.

* * *

 **Alright guys, a little note for the end of the chapter. This is a _Viserys_ -centric story, Jon was never going to become king when Rhaella discovered him. Please do not spam me with pms or reviews trying to change my mind, it won't happen. I urge you to stick around and enjoy the ride though, everything will work out in the end! Also if someone wants to talk about succession and how Jon should be king before Viserys even though he was born after Viserys was crowned by Rhaella, I urge you to take a look at the Great Council of 233 AC and what happened with Aerion Brightflame's son.**

 **Hope to see you all in the next chapter!**


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